


there's something so wholesome about you

by aceaaronminyard (necklace), autisticandrewminyard (transtwinyards)



Series: trans andrew [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Face-Sitting, Grinding, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Male Character, inappropriate uses of the tv show modern marvels, this is unedited to all hell lmao take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necklace/pseuds/aceaaronminyard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtwinyards/pseuds/autisticandrewminyard
Summary: "Did you take your binder off?" Neil asks, only five minutes into Modern Marvels and half aware of his hand on Andrew's stomach. Andrew has elected to ignore it, but the offending appendage has snaked under Andrew's shirt and is pressing calloused fingers to his hip, rubbing, Neil's head in the space between two breasts anddoing thingsto whatever shred of normalcy Andrew had planned for the night.





	there's something so wholesome about you

**Author's Note:**

> i was thirsting for trans andrew the other day and sj pulled through with a fic, so i'm half returning the favor, half doing this out of pure self-indulgence.
> 
> have some face sitting, yall

In theory, it should have been a quiet night in. Aaron was with Nicky in the library while they studied, Kevin off on a rare night with Thea, and Neil _should_ have been at the court. 

Instead, he's with Andrew, curled up with his head on a squishy chest. 

"Did you take your binder off?" Neil asks, only five minutes into Modern Marvels and half aware of his hand on Andrew's stomach. Andrew has elected to ignore it, but the offending appendage has snaked under Andrew's shirt and is pressing calloused fingers to his hip, rubbing, Neil's head in the space between two breasts and _doing things_ to whatever shred of normalcy Andrew had planned for the night. 

It's really not Andrew's fault that he wants those fingers inside him. 

"Yeah," Andrew says instead of 'finger me, yes or no?'. It's a good day. His shirt is loose and Neil's head is comfortably supported by Andrew's nearly-nonexistent tits, and Andrew is two seconds away from asking if Neil could, for the love of god, just get something on his clit before this narrator describes the inner workings of how rope is made. 

Neil, for all intents and purposes, is content to rub Andrew's hip and watch the way the braiding process works. Andrew is _not_ having that when their dorm room is already locked and Andrew can feel himself getting wet under the familiar weight of Neil. 

"Neil," he breathes, just soft enough to get Neil's hand to stop moving on his hip. "Neil, yes or no?" 

That gets his attention. Neil shifts enough to tilt his chin up towards Andrew, his hand now curled over Andrew's waist. "Yes." 

With Neil's consent still ringing in his ears, he pulls one hand from where it was under his head and threads it through Neil's hair, tugging him up for a kiss. Modern Marvels has been forgotten for now, and Andrew is really, really okay with that if, when, _if_ Neil continues to tell him yes. 

Andrew knows this won't go anywhere if he doesn't tell Neil what he wants, so instead of continuing to kiss him, he pulls back enough to whisper between the space of their lips, "Touch me?" 

"Someone's excited," Neil huffs, amused. The ghost of a smile flits across Neil's lips, and it isn't cruel or sharp or his fathers, but a softer one, meant for Andrew and Andrew alone. It, unsurprisingly, goes right down to his pussy, lighting something within Andrew that he knows he'll need to evaluate later. 

"Shut up," Andrew quips instead, pushing down on Neil's shoulders in an attempt to handle him where he wants him most. 

"Hey, hey, wait. Are you sure?" 

Andrew pauses, staring down at Neil. They could go back to watching Modern Marvels, he thinks, and Neil would position himself so Andrew won't feel his cock pressed to his leg, and they could continue on with their night without a hitch. 

"Of course I'm sure," is what comes out of his mouth, and he's not shocked to find that he means it completely. 

Neil nods, and continues to wiggle his way down so he can reach for the hem of Andrew's boxers comfortably. The couch in the main room is really _not_ the place to be eaten out, but Andrew pushes himself up to make room between his legs anyway. He isn’t willing to risk the trek to the bedroom if Neil is already down on his stomach, so really, it's only fair to sink into the couch and let Neil undress him. 

Neil looks up at him one more time, searching for any hesitation on Andrew's face. Upon finding none, he pulls the boxers down in one fluid motion with the help of Andrew bending his legs. The offending article of clothing gets tossed aside, but before Neil can get settled between Andrew's legs again, he pulls his shirt off. God, he looks eager, his auburn curls mussed from both Andrew's fingers and the static of his shirt. 

Andrew keeps his own shirt on and Neil doesn’t ask him to remove it, but one hand comes up to cup a breast over the material anyway as he finally settles between Andrew's toned legs. 

"God," he whispers. "Look at how wet you are already." 

Andrew's leg jerks involuntarily at the observation, setting one foot on Neil's back and over his shoulder to hide his movement. The other leg hangs off the couch in an attempt to keep himself easily accessible. 

Now, Andrew is fully aware of how much Neil knows his body. He can't fucking forget it, not ever, but he's reminded when Neil doesn't actually do anything with his tongue yet. One of his fingers, the pad calloused from both his years on the run and his most recent stint of trying to get into guns again, brushes lightly over the inside of Andrew's thighs. On the other thigh, Neil noses up the soft skin against the barely-there raise of hair, pressing languid kisses over the muscle and sliding his hand up. 

"What do you want?" Neil asks against the crease of where Andrew's thigh ends and his pussy begins, looking up at Andrew with his blue eyes and sharp gaze and awfully dark pupils. 

"Tongue. I want your tongue," Andrew requests, too quickly. Almost at once, he realizes his hands have been clenched on the fabric of the couch instead of Neil, and immediately rectifies that by sliding his right hand through soft auburn hair. 

Neil doesn't waste time when given something so direct as a request, but Andrew still gasps when the first swipe of Neil's tongue leaves him aching. 

"C'mon, Neil," Andrew sighs. He does _not_  whine thank-you-very-much, but Neil's huff of breath against him feels good enough that he might do it again. Another swipe of a tongue keeps him from complaining, but Neil doesn't stop there. Both hands come up to keep Andrew's thighs apart, the heat from his mouth almost too hot to bear, but before Andrew can even _think_ of doing anything stupid like _moving_ , Neil presses his lips to Andrew's clit and sucks. 

For maybe three seconds, Andrew believes in God. 

Neil doesn't stop there, sucking Andrew's clit and pulling it lightly between his teeth, rolling the bud with his tongue. The hands tighten around Andrew's thighs to keep from squishing Neil's head, but Andrew tugs at the auburn locks in his hands and presses Neil further against him. 

Neil groans, the vibrations rocking Andrew all the way down to his core. His hand tightens in Neil's hair when Neil doesn't bother stopping, his tongue sliding between his labia to tease at his entrance. Andrew moans, long and low and quiet, but Neil takes the hint and presses his face in deeper. One hand slides up Andrew's thigh to his clit, his thumb swirling around the soaked nub as his tongue does wonders elsewhere. 

God, Andrew is going to cum and it's going to be amazing and Modern Marvels is still playing in the background.

"Stop," he gasps, two seconds away from warning Neil of his predicament. By the time he finally processes the command, Neil's pulled away and onto his knees, his chest heaving from exertion. "Let me ride your face, yes or no?"

"Fuck, Andrew, _yes_ ," Neil groans after a split second of shock. Andrew is only mildly disappointed that the sound wasn't against his pussy. 

The actual process of switching positions is a little clumsy, Neil only thumbing at his jeans as he lies on his back. Andrew watches over his shoulder as Neil's fingers move where he's straddling Neil's chest, and makes no move to help Neil kick off his pants and boxers. Neil doesn't ask for help at all, but he's got his cock in hand and Andrew _really_ wants to sit on that awful mouth of his. 

"Whenever you're ready," Neil says, a cheeky lilt to his lips making Andrew roll his eyes. 

"Don't flatter yourself," he quips, bracing his hands on the arm of the couch as he finds a position to work with. With both knees on either side of Neil's head and Neil looking up at him, mouth parted just so, Andrew lowers himself down and let's Neil's tongue find his clit.

With a check that Neil's okay, Andrew rolls his hips experimentally, hearing more than feeling the slick sound of Neil adjusting to the new angle against his pussy. 

"Fuck," Andrew whispers. Another roll of his hips gets Neil adjusted, sticking his tongue out flat for Andrew to use, and use Andrew does. 

He sets a pace for himself, ignoring the feeling of the rough fabric at his knees in favor of knocking himself down to his elbows on the arm of the couch. He knows he's getting close again just by the way Neil is groaning softly against Andrew's clit on every upward roll of his hips, Andrew not holding back at all in an attempt to ride Neil's face as best as he can with his legs half-numb from arousal. 

God, God, he's so close, so close to what he needs. He can feel Neil thrusting loosely into his hand, probably using his own precum as lube, and that's what finally pulls Andrew in. 

With a soft sound as his hips jolt, he can feel Neil's other hand at his waist to keep him from collapsing. His orgasm shakes through his legs like a swift kick to his spine, his stomach tensing even further in an attempt to keep himself up with Neil's help. This doesn't stop Neil from licking up the mess, of course, the hand on Andrew's hip grounding him with every drop of cum that's cleaned up by Neil's mouth as Andrew tries to ride out the waves.

Andrew let's himself feel the steady roll of his orgasm for another fifteen seconds before he can feel his legs enough to move, sliding down Neil's chest, down his torso, and slapping his hand away from his cock. 

"Do you want to cum?" Andrew asks, voice low and hoarse, blinking down at Neil's wet mouth in fascination. God, he's so tired, but he can get Neil off quickly with how flushed he looks.

"Yes," Neil pleads, trying to rock his hips up despite Andrew sitting comfortably on his thighs. 

Andrew wiggles his way up a little, sliding the base of Neil's cock through the folds of his lips and grinding down. His legs are still tingling something fierce, but the friction feels almost too good against his sensitive pussy. Neil doesn't bother hiding his moans, one hand pulling Andrew's shirt up just enough to see his cock slip through Andrew's folds without the penetration. 

"Fuck, _Andrew_ ," Neil groans. Andrew grinds down only a few more times before Neil's is cumming, back arching off the couch even with Andrew's weight on his hips. White strips stain Neil's tummy, his hand tightening in Andrew's shirt and tugging a little with the force of his orgasm. 

By the time Neil has caught his breath, Andrew is up and off of him, not in the mood to walk all the way to the bathroom for a clean washcloth when Neil's boxers are right there for the taking. 

Andrew cleans up the sweat gathering on his stomach and thighs first, then does a precautionary sweep of the cum drying on Neil's torso. 

"You okay?" Neil asks. He's still a little out of breath, but at least he's moved to sit on the couch properly again. Andrew lets him swipe his boxers back without complaint.

"Of course I'm okay," Andrew says back, pulling his boxers on again and leaning into the comfortable nook in the couch. "Are you?" 

Neil finishes wiping down his stomach with his boxers, forgoing his shirt and jeans and tossing them towards the door in the bedroom. "I'm fine," he teases. A small smile stretches his lips in a way Andrew _knows_ is completely and utterly arrogant. 

"Asshole. Now let me watch my show," Andrew dismisses, watching from the corner of his eye as Neil stands up to, Andrew assumes, put some pants on. 

Neil snorts from the confines of their room as he fumbles with the dresser, and Andrew hides a small, barely-there twitch of his lips against the inside of his wrist. He blames the orgasm.

**Author's Note:**

> title from hozier's from eden.
> 
> you can find sj and i [here](http://aceaaroniscanon.tumblr.com/) on tumblr
> 
> comments/kudos are always appreciated B)


End file.
